


Dutybound

by jehanna



Category: Fire Emblem: The Sacred Stones
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 04:20:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13138953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jehanna/pseuds/jehanna
Summary: Three times Eirika changes the way Seth thinks, and one time he changes hers.





	Dutybound

**Author's Note:**

> This is my gift for @uncoined on tumblr for the FE Holiday Exchange!! I hope you enjoy it!!

Seth was the esteemed knight general of Renais’ army. He was awarded the title at the age of twenty six, after years and years of hard work and dedicated training. The overseeing of the entire cavalry force was no easy feat, but nothing he fell short at. From his young days as a page, even as a five year old on the day of his lieges’ birth and seeing them for the first time, he dreamed of a position such as this. Knighthood was his calling. The role of a leader was his element.

Most of all, he was the proud and loyal knight to Princess Eirika of Renais. No honor bestowed upon him was great as this. It wasn’t only a privilege in principle, but by being able to serve the greatest lord he could imagine.

He still remembers a conversation of theirs, far in the past from his term as a page, his second to last year of it. The grass in the training field was overgrown where trainees didn’t step, golden green in the sunlight. There was a breeze, small but pleasant versus the body heat and sweat of battle.

He thrusts, Orson parries, but Seth meets him with a counterattack, aiming to throw his sword from his hand while he recovers. Orson flips it and meets him before he can reach, only for Seth to duck and seize his hilt, prying the sword from him. Orson can’t turn before the flat of his weapon is against his back, a killing blow in this imaginary battle. Stumbling to the ground, he catches his breath, but huffs and smiles when Seth offers him a hand.

They had been training in the blinding daylight for some time, wearing themselves to the bone. His mentor was a squire, though a young one at that, tall and lanky and boney like he’s growing too fast for his body. Anxious and meek in demeanor, but a warrior you wouldn’t want to cross.

“I should hope my page is not already surpassing me, I’ve my own mentor to impress.”  
  
“You needn’t worry,” Seth jokes back. “Your loyalty precedes your skill. And if anything, it would be proof of your skills since you taught me, would it not?”  
  
Orson’s grin is wry. “I shall pray our king thinks the same...You know you have only another year of being a page, before you’ll be taking my place, and given your own to train.”  
  
Right, his own page. As hard as he had to work, Seth would savor this next year, as it will only get busier from there. One would think having a page at your bidding would make things simpler, but they were more a student than a servant—even if poor Orson’s knight treated him like he wasn’t. You were expected to teach them, and it reflected back onto you in turn. Their tasks were small, but when you manage a person’s entire schedule...  
  
On top of that, he and Orson would be squires at the same time. Though he has 3 years over Seth. They would still be together, working beside each other, but he would have a different superior. To think of it after so long of being under him felt...strange. Nostalgic, even though he hadn’t yet left these cozy days of training and not worrying towards the future. Orson was his idol, teacher, and most of all a friend. He hopes only their dynamic will change.

Their training today wasn’t too intensive, few knights and soon-to-bes were able to focus today. All thanks to a famous general from the South, the Obsidian, having excused himself from his visiting king’s presence to watch them train. The younger ones were practically throwing themselves around, battling as intensely as their body would allow. A small part of Seth hopes he and Orson’s relatively calm spars would attract his attention, but it’s trampled by the reality of their much lower stations. That isn’t to mention how far they were from him, having found a more secluded spot for their rounds.

Who this doesn’t deter, however, is the young Prince Ephraim. Oh, how Seth pitied poor Orson and the lordling he was often assigned to keep watch of. Lo and behold, the boy had taken a training lance in hand, demanding a battle from General Duessel, of all people. He could barely lift the thing, but it doesn’t stop him.

“My lord! What in the world are you doing?!”

Orson runs off quickly, even leaving his sword in the process. Seth smiles and shakes his head, retrieving it. Thank goodness he, if ever, only had watch of the calm and behaved Princess Eirika.

Supposing his squire would be kept busy for some time, he searches out a pleasant spot for a break. As good a job as the breeze did, the exertion of his body was catching up to him, and the shade left by the trees just at the corner of the castle was beckoning him.

There were few times where the bench there was empty, and so Seth had forgotten about it, thinking he and Orson have only had access to it once. But due to the day’s distraction, it was left alone, save for the surprising presence of the princess herself. Her back was against the stone wall, overtaken by vines. In her hand was one of the purple flowers that tended to grow on them, seeming to fall apart in her hand.

“Princess,” Seth said with a slight bow. “Are you well?”

“Very much so, Sir Seth.”  She smiles. “Are you?”

Seth looks over his shoulder. He can’t see Orson clearly from here, but he can imagine the other’s panic, apologizing to their visitor. “...Very much so.”

Eirika breaks into giggles, covering her mouth with both hands. “What is my brother up to now?”

“Only challenging a Gradan general to battle, though he can barely lift his training lance.”

She’s still smiling, small and graceful. She doesn’t appear to be even remotely surprised. “Yes, that sounds like him...Has he already started studying to battle?”

“It’s the...only thing he seems _willing_ to study, princess.”

“I see…” Is her only reply, expression turning pensive. Sensing she had more to say, Seth sits to one knee, looking up at her.

“Is something wrong, Princess?”

“Sir Seth...Will I be training for battle, too?”

“That’s what you’re worrying about?” Seth smiles to her, standing back up. “Not at all, Princess. You have no need for it.”

Eirika’s expression doesn’t change until she stands suddenly, as straight and tall as she can at her height and age. Determination paints her features. “What if I want to?”

“You...want to?”

Seth can’t fathom a reason she would wish to. A girl of her status would never need to know the sword or the lance, the brutality of battle.

“Yes...I have asked my teachers, some of the sisters...even Father, but they all said the same thing.”

“Princess…Prince Ephraim will be expected to be a skilled strategist and soldier by his coronation, but you don’t need to worry about such standards. It would be best to focus on your own studies for now.”

“But why? Why must he learn these things and I don’t? If he must, then surely it’s valuable to us...But how?”

“In...In case of an emergency, Princess, these would be valuable skills. Should a neighboring country declare war, and there be no guards to protect him...It’s for the protection of the Prince’s life and our Renais that he must learn these things.”

“What of my safety then, Sir Seth? What if I find myself in danger? And why do you speak of war? Do we not trust our allies? Does father have doubts? Surely they are misplaced…”

It was easy to see she was getting worked up, hands in fists and face flushed. Seth is a little stunned, having never seen her anything but obedient and content, at least since she was but a toddler.

“My Lady, please calm down.”

She obliges with a sigh, sitting back down. Though with some hesitation, he takes a seat beside her. The trees and grass are wavering under the breeze, the field busy as everyone returns to their training. She’s watching them. It would feel nice, almost serene, if she wasn’t clearly so perturbed.

“I assure you, we have no fear of war, we’ve long lived in peace. His Majesty is a diplomat first and foremost, you know he wouldn’t approve of senseless violence.

But in the case that a day like that should ever come...It wouldn’t be good if we were caught off guard, so we must prepare for even the worst case scenario.”

“Th...That makes sense...But I still don’t understand. I know these duties aren’t expected of me, but why aren’t they? What if...What if something were to happen to Ephraim, or father?” Eirika’s brows furrow, gaze cast down. “Who will these duties fall on? I would be the only one left. And if I cannot fulfill those duties…”

“A day like that will never come, Princess, I assure you.”

“But we must prepare for the worst case scenario, like you said.” She sighs again. “Sir Seth, I apologize for my brashness, but please...Just give me one reason why I shouldn’t learn to fight. One reason, and I will stop.”

“It’s just...too dangerous.”

“And it isn’t for Ephraim?”

She had every right to be angry. Especially when her brother had no need to worry about such things, when he benefited from the logic...Could it be she felt inferior to him? That his position and authority was held more important than hers?

...Was it?

“I...see your logic, Princess. It’s true, that differing things are expected from your positions...” In fact, thinking on it...What authority did Eirika have other than her subjects? Was the position of a princess to be merely a bargaining trip for future marriages?

...He...had never stopped to think about such things, he realizes. What knight would question his king and his traditions, after all.

“But why…?”

“I have no answer for you, Princess. This is merely how things have always been. And I have no power to change that, I’m afraid.”

Eirika pouts, pulling her knees to her chin, feet dangling off the seat. “But what can be done about this? No matter how hard I think, no solution presents itself...I fear no one will think the same way you do, Sir Seth. Will no one but you and my brother hear me out?”

“I have no answer for that either. I have nothing against you taking a weapon in hand...I would train you myself, were it possible.” If only because he was so insistent on her safety. The first part is a lie. “But I cannot go against my king’s wishes like that.”

“Right...If you were to defy him as I do, you would lose everything.” She pulls her legs up onto the bench, resting her head on her knees. “Is there truly no solution?”

“Perhaps,” he feels wrong saying this, as it went against the very king he was serving. But his heirs were someone he had to serve as well. “Prince Ephraim would be willing to teach? He isn’t yet far in his training, but I can’t see him objecting to it.”

“Sir Seth! You’re right!” Eirika’s eyes widen, standing from her seat again. It startles him, but he’s pleased to see it, her eyes shining instead of being so forlorn. “I hadn’t even thought of that...He’ll teach me, I know of it!”

“I’m glad to hear it, Princess.” He smiles.

“I’ll ask him tonight, I’ll make sure of it.” She can barely contain her excitement, heading toward the training grounds after her sibling. “And...please, Sir Seth, just ‘Eirika’ is fine.”

He watches her go, finding it hard to will himself to stand up after that. His stomach was wheezing with unease at defying his king, but he cannot feel too guilty, only content to see her pleased.

* * *

  
It wouldn’t be years until Seth discovers how much truth was in her words. It was only a week or so after after his coronation as a general. He remembers the event vividly, brief but warm and worthy of celebration. Now he was watching as his men stood helplessly at the hands of Gradan soldiers. He had only a moment to feel for his failure before he’s pulling Eirika, frenzied and panicking and resisting out of the castle to his steed. Even sooner is it galloping off castle grounds, only one goal on his rider’s mind.

To bring Eirika to safety. Only when she was safe would he allow himself to mourn.

Though he does enjoy the abrupt relief of seeing Franz alive and well, even if he sends him off seconds later. For the better, as the beating of wyvern wings on wind draws close.

The man’s mount keens, slinking towards him eagerly. His rider is no less slimy, his words filthy and cruel. His gaze is only on Eirika, who he urges off his horse quickly, sensing battle.

_“Well, this must be my lucky day. You’re a dead man. The wench goes with me.”_

_“Never!”_

Disgusted at his language, Seth charges. The battle is a short blur, only coming into focus as he feels Valter’s weapon pierce his left side, grazing him but enough to carve into the flesh there.

Pain paralyzes him, his grip tightening the only thing keeping his lance in hand. His side is burning, shirt wetting with blood.

_“No!”_

They’re running again just as quickly, the sound of wyverns overheard and their shadows gliding across the grass. But they’re there, and alive. For a moment they stop, shielded by tall oak trees. The shadows pass by. They've lost them. It takes all of his strength not to double over.

“S-Seth, you’re bleeding…” Eirika whispers, horrified, getting closer. He hadn’t had the time nor the chance to feel it before, but the pain was ever present now, blood spreading and soaking into his undershirt.

“We shouldn’t dwell on this, Princess Eirika.” He forces himself to sit up, though the injury on his side screams with pain. “The border of Frelia is only half a day away, we should be able to make it at least close if we don’t stop.”

She seems almost about to protest, before he extends an arm to her and pulls her again onto his horse. She’s unable to get a word in before they take leave again.

They’re only miles away before night falls and they stop to rest, against the side of his mount with her in a weary, tearful sleep. Seth’s pain keeps him awake and on guard, not registering her weight against him as he ponders how this all came to be. He ponders how Fado must fare, though the logical part of him argues he must be dead.

_(“Go now, Seth! Ride! Take her to safety!”)_

It was the last order he’d ever take from his king, he realizes, and even if it hadn’t been, he’d still offer his life as long she would be safe.

That’s why it pains him so when they’re just at Border Mulan, the bridge to Frelia in sight, and he stops them suddenly.

“Your Highness, I won’t lie to you. This will not be an easy ride.” There is nothing he wants more than to just have her stay behind him, atop of the safety of his horse and to just bear it until they’re safe in a foreign land. But that just wasn’t realistic. Above all was her safety, and he would not pretend she will never have to shed blood if they wish to make it out alive. The thought does nothing to quell the sickly feeling it brings.

Was letting her on the battlefield not an invitation for harm?

He can’t shake the thought, but knows this isn’t his choice to make.

“Please, take this rapier.” Seth had had the right mind to take weapons in their rush, operating only on routine and reflex. He’d been prepared for this inevitably before he even realized it would come, he supposed. “If something should happen to me, you must continue to Frelia, alone if need be.”

Eirika doesn’t falter at his words, instead taking the rapier as naturally as a breath. She must have had come to terms with their situation as soon as the sun had risen, as she hadn’t shed a tear since that night. Hardly spoke at all, actually. Seth was worried, but had no place to push her to.

It hurt him too to think of how Fado is surely gone, even though he had assured her it wasn’t the case with all the faux confidence he could muster. And what of Ephraim? What of Kyle and Forde, at that?...Orson? They even had no way of knowing Franz had made it.

All they could do was hope, and fight. The day was just one battle after another, until they were in a castle with Franz once again at their side. When news fell onto their ears that Tana was in danger, Eirika hadn’t despaired. She had simply fought her hardest, not a mark to be found by the day’s end.

By the time Eirika’s discussion with Hayden had finished, Seth was emerging from the infirmary himself. She had insisted he take leave of the conversation and get it tended to.  His wound was bad, deep and nearing infection. Their healers did all they could, but warned it had been left by itself so long that a full recovery wasn’t likely. He didn’t let the news weigh him down, he couldn’t afford to.

When he reached Eirika’s door, he knocked gently on it, hoping for an answer but knowing he might not get one. He only wanted to know her condition, that was all. She had seemed surprisingly okay when he left, but knew that might not be the case. He hopes his assumption is wrong.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t. The door cracks open, just enough for Eirika to peer through.

Her face is flushed, eyes swollen. “Seth…”

“Ah...Princess Eirika, if this is a bad time, I will take my leave. I only wanted to know your condition.”

“N...No, it’s fine, Seth. I wanted to see you.”

She allows him in, and he’s not sure if it’s appropriate. A foolish part of him just wanted to see her, quelling the irrational fear that he would return to her missing. Were the events of the twenty-four or so hours a little different, she may of never left the castle. She locks the door, not wanting anyone else to see her in such a state.

“Your wound, how is it?”

“It still hurts, but they expect it will heal with time.” He hates lying to her, but manages a smile. He wouldn’t add to her worries if he could help it. “Regardless, I won’t let it hinder me in battle.”

The healers had told him he shouldn’t be in battle, should barely lift his arm at all, or else it could rip out his stitches, reopen the wound. But he couldn’t accept that. As long as he was a knight of Renais, as long as Eirika was to be protected, he wouldn't rest.

“You won’t have to take on as much...After you left, Hayden gave us three soldiers. “

That’s right, three had been standing by as they spoke.

“Protecting you is still my number one priority, Your Highness. I will lay my life for you if it’s necessary.”

“Don’t talk like that.”

Her voice had been quiet before, wavering and interrupted by sniffles but _hers_. Now it was suddenly steady, loud and clear but hushed all at the same time. Unfamiliar.

“Your Highness…?”

“Father is dead...Ephraim might be..." Her voice catches on his name. "His companions too...I can’t handle the thought of someone else dying. Not now. So...please.” Eirika stares him down, eyes watery but bold with something Seth can’t name. “Don’t talk like you’re going to die.

When you fought that man...Valter, was it? I was terrified...It all happened so quickly, and I’ve never seen you so...distraught. When we were riding away, blood was soaking through your shirt and I had it on my hands...I-I thought you might die. Father had just fallen...I don’t think I would have been able to handle losing you so soon after.”

“I...I am deeply sorry, Princess, to have worried you so. Unfortunately, there was no time for rational thought. Protecting you was my duty first and foremost, and I will die if it’s necessary. But I...shouldn’t have worried you.”

“No...Don’t apologize, just please...In the future, do not shoulder all of the responsibilities. My talk with Hayden...When he spoke of father’s passing, it made realize how serious this all is. I know my decision to go to Grado is...impulsive, but I will not sit back and accept that my brother might die on the battlefield, or watch my country be destroyed.”

Again, goosebumps raise across Seth’s skin at the imagery of her in a battlefield, a sword in hand. He reacts as if it hasn’t already happened. He knows she’s capable, he knows she’s already proved that, but he…

Was scared, wasn’t he? Of losing her, of failing his duty to his king.

“I completely understand, Princess Eirika. And I will do my best to aid you in your mission. Give me a command, and I will see to it that it happens.” He could be imagining it, but her shoulders seem to sag, her body less tense. At the very least, she was no longer crying.

“...I wanted...to know how you fare, Seth. I’ve been worried sick for you, too.”

Arms crossed, his fingers dig into his shirt’s fabric. It was inappropriate, if not entirely unprofessional, and a slew of other things, to speak his feelings to his lord. He isn’t sure what to tell her…Really, he doesn’t know himself. Not a thought he’s had since this all started been for someone other than Eirika and King Fado. He...was not grieving as he thought he would. There hasn’t been time for it, and now that there is…He was left oddly numb to it.

No, there’s another anxiety within him, one that warns of the possibility that Fado isn’t the only one he might never see again.

“Truth be told...I was also shaken by the news, and am worried for your brother, among others.”

“That’s right...Orson rides with him. He was your mentor, wasn’t he?”

Eirika had noticed it before he did, but yes, that was it. But not just Orson, either...So many more could be lost, he realizes.

He shouldn’t allow himself to worry. It was a foolish distraction that got in the way of his duties, he had sworn that to himself. And yet...

“You’re right...Sir Orson is a brilliant knight, and I’m sure he fights valiantly by Prince Ephraim’s side. Kyle and Forde too, I’ve even taught Kyle myself. They’re all capable warriors, but we haven’t heard word of them in much time...”

“I’m sorry, Seth.” Eirika steps forward, taking his hands in hers. It gives him a start, but his eyes meet hers, feeling oddly...calm, grounded. Outside of his fussing over her, he felt strangely numb, more upset about that numbness than anything. “I’m so glad you’re with me. I wouldn’t be able to have gotten this far without you, and we still have so much further to go. With you by my side, I feel...safer. We’ll see them again, I promise you that.”

“I’m glad you think so, Your Highness...I look forward to it, your reunion with Prince Ephraim.”

“And your reunion with your mentor and students, Seth.” For the first time he’s seen her tonight, she smiles. It’s enough to ease the ache from his wound, and quell his anxiety. “...It’s late, we should rest while we can. But thank you, your talk...it’s eased my nerves.”

“Of course. Please, Princess Eirika, rest well.” With a curt bow, he makes for the door. He gives one last glance over his shoulder. “And...thank you, it eased mine as well.”

The smile she gives him keeps him warm throughout the night, even as his skin is scorching and burning under his clothes and sleep never comes.

* * *

  
Every other night, he and Eirika would train. To keep her skills sharp, to keep his mind at ease. During the evening, if not at battle, he had Franz and new recruits to teach. But when campfires died down and most went to rest, nights where he didn’t have guard duty, she would come to him and spar.

Seth was surprised when she told him that Ephraim really did teach her to battle, apparently taking the comment he made as a squire to heart.

All for the better, as she had been right, that she too would be on a battlefield one day. He should have noticed sooner, with the way she mimics him in battle. She had Seth’s own stance and dexterity, clear in the the way she held her blade, the way she dodged. But there was a subtle brute strength in her attacks that rings true to her brother too. She was improving with every day. Enough to best him, even, as he watches his lance fall to the ground, knocked from his hand. Eirika’s blade is pointed towards his chest, though it stops many inches short. Another victory, one of many that night.

“Incredible skill, Your Highness.” Seth bends to retrieve his lost weapon. “You’re improving quickly.”

Eirika’s expression was pensive when their gazes met. “Seth...Are you alright?”

“Hm? Of course, my lady...You mean my wound? It doesn’t hurt at all.”

“You lie, but that’s not what I meant.” Seth is surprised when his empty hand is covered by hers, the feeling familiar but all the more alien because of it. “You seem upset.”

The corners of his lips twitch, trying to make a mock smile. But he can’t manage it. She could already detect the truth behind his words, he knew that. She was far more observant than anyone gave her credit for. “I’m just tired, is all. Today’s battle...was eventful.”

That was one word for it.

When Orson had stepped out of Renvall, relief washed over Seth like water. He was alive, a little worse for wear but _alive._ He only had moments to feel it before dread crept up his spine at the sight of _only_ Orson. Where was Kyle and Forde? Had they fallen?...Where was Prince Ephraim?

They entered, Seth followed, eyes set on him. His mentor, his idol, and most of all a friend...Only to find him turned traitor, attempting to assassinate their liege with a weapon hidden so poorly he couldn’t believe this man was once his teacher.

What had gone wrong?

“Seth. Please...be honest.

Was he really such a bad liar?

“I...No, I’m sorry, Your Highness. I shouldn’t let such things affect my performance.”

The fact he hadn’t noticed it was affecting his skills at all was proof enough that he was slipping, forgetting his training and his duties. His face almost burns with shame.

“ _Seth--_ ”

He attempts to walk away, but her grip doesn’t let up and tugs him back. He could pry himself from it if he tried, but he doesn’t.

“Your Highness...Please, it’s nothing you need to worry about.”

“Yes, it is. I myself am responsible for every soldier under me, and if it’s affecting your battle...Then I need to do something about it.”

She was using his own kind of logic against him. Seth sighs, turning to face her. There was...no way to get out of this, he knew it. The twins were both stubborn, albeit in entirely different ways. Ephraim may have ran foolhardy directly into Grado’s heart, but no one thought of how Eirika did so after him. She would get him to talk, whether he liked it or not.

“Lady Eirika…Please, excuse my moment of weakness, but I assure you I will be perfectly fine with a long rest.”

He can’t allow himself to be seen like this. He can’t let his mask slip. He was a general and leader of Renais’ cavalry, he had to be the utmost role model, a beacon of strength, especially in these trying times. What if Kyle or Forde were to see this? Franz?

Orson wouldn’t have approved, as kind as he had been, he was just as rigid when keeping appearances.

... _Had been._

That’s right, Orson wasn’t Sir Orson anymore. He was a traitor to the crown. Seth would no longer look up to him, nor the Orson of his past. He had tried to hold those pure memories of the past dear, but they were soiled by the present. He had convinced himself that he was past this, that in times like these you have to accept and move on, and he had.

So why does it still hurt?

“You have every right to be upset, Seth. you’re allowed to feel things.” He’d started to walk away again, though her words stop him dead in his tracks. “You’re a human before a knight.”

“...Rest well, Your Highness.”

She lets him go. Seth takes his leave, and Eirika doesn’t say anything about it in the morning. He remains the epitome of a brave and honorable knight, but carries her words under his chestplate, as no matter how hard he tried to ignore them, they follow him.

It’s those words that kept him together that night, and months later when he eventually crosses blades with Orson. Seth doesn’t falter, even though there’s more of Orson’s blood on his shirt than there is his own. When he sees what caused Orson’s madness, flesh rotten and exposed, muttering sweet words drowned in its own mucus, he feels too much and nothing all at once. He offers to dispose of it, but Ephraim insists. Though it should have been his duty, he was grateful for the offer. His stomach was rolling in his body and he could only barely keep from retching onto the floor.

He finds himself too tired and worn to care about appearances, one could mistake him for the revenants they saw outside, he looked so ghastly. and it must have shown, as not even his lord and lady try to spare a word to him.

Seth doesn’t know how long he spends with his head in his hands, staring down at the surface of the desk in his lodging. He feels guilty, knowing fully well he still has duties to tend to before the night’s end. But he can’t bring himself to move.

He still can’t entirely wrap his mind around Orson’s betrayal. He had seen firsthand how much Orson’s wife meant to him. Damn it all, he had been to his _wedding_. But he’d even longer seen Orson’s dedication to the throne, his hard work and sweat and tears dedicated to achieving knighthood. Seth had seen his knighting ceremony, Orson had wept tears of joy even in front of his king he was so overjoyed. And though it seemed like the young prince had only wanted to cause him trouble, for all that time he so rarely left Ephraim’s side, who he knew looked up to his future retainer. How must the Prince feel now? Who else had Orson hurt?

Seth had also seen his slow descent into depression, how far had let himself go. He was still an impeccable warrior and loyal servant, but vacant, ghostly. There were times where Seth had managed to get a small smile out of him, but those became fewer and fewer as time went on.

Had it driven him so mad that the promise of her return would make him betray his liege? Betray his kingdom? Betray the people who cared about him?

Betray Seth?

He can only replay those memories of much happier, more joyous nostalgia as he hopes Orson reunites with her in the afterlife. And curse him, curse the person who had meant so much to Seth,but apparently had cared about him less; enough to leave him alone in a guest room, weeping for the first time since he was a child.

The next time they go to train, he sees his own skill in Eirika’s. His skills that had Orson in them. Orson would be with him forever, no matter how much he buries and denies his feelings. He has to excuse himself, and Eirika, knowing, lets him.

* * *

It was in the early hours of the morning when Seth hears knocks at the door of his temporary quarters, even though he’d just been on the brink of sleep. One of Grado’s filth had attempted an attack in the night, after Pontifex Mansel’s head and his sacred stone. By the time the battle was over and everyone had settled yet again, the moon was gone from his view outside his windows. Mourning the lost hours, however little he may have had left, he gets up to answer it.

Eirika, a cloak messily thrown over her nightdress, meets his eyes.

“My lady, is something wrong?” He asks urgently, backing up to let her in, but not before hastily searching out his discarded shirt, though it seems none of her concern.

“I’m incredibly sorry to bother you, Seth. Especially at this hour.”

“Not at all, Your Highness. You know I am at your call at every minute.” Seth tugs the fastenings of his top, so he’s at least _decent._ “What do you need of me?”

Eirika shifts uncomfortably, toying with the edges of her sleeves. She eventually sighs, closing her eyes and taking a seat on the edge of his bed. “Your ear, if you would lend it.”

Does she think he ever wouldn’t? Though he has little confidence in how much help he’ll be, he will make sure her every need is tended to, be it by himself or others.

After all, she’d done the same to him so many times, he was less than proud to admit. How loose-lipped he was becoming with his liege didn’t escape his notice, and he was working hard to reclaim his control.

But she looks so pained. The least he could do was return the favor, anything to pull that look off her face and the weights off her shoulders.

“Always.” Unlike any previous lodgings they’ve stayed in, this one in Rausten Court was without a chair. But it felt too cold to just stand, so he sits with a respectable space between him. He hopes that it doesn’t give the wrong idea, but as much as he’d like otherwise, there were boundaries that a knight cannot cross.

“...Thank you, Seth.”

He doesn’t rush her when she needs a minute or two to speak, both staring out the window adjacent to them. It was partially stained glass, as were most windows here. And he’d spent the last few restless hours remembering his religious studies as a child, trying to make sense of the scenes they depicted. The middle was clear, and the sky was in that strange state between night and morning. The sun wasn’t yet in the sky, the moon still watching them, but the sky was already changing.

“Is what I’m doing right?”

“...What is it that you’re doing, Your Highness?”

“I...I will never repay all of the people of my army. Seth, you and the other knights...I know it’s your duty, and you’ve served better than I could ever ask. Everyone I’ve met on this journey...They’re all so wonderful. But I can’t help but wonder if it was the right choice...Taking them with us.”

“Why is that…?”

“They’re just...they’re average people, Seth. We have been through...so, so, _so_ many terrible things. They’ve had to go through it as well, because they follow me...Am I just endangering those same people?

Her nails dig into the sheets.

“I can’t help but think of how things will end...If we ever do meet the Demon King...How many will fall before he does? How many will we lose simply on the journey there?”

“Lady Eirika…”

“Mansel could have been assassinated tonight, Seth! We...We were attacked as we slept. We’re never safe, and we are blessed to have not lost anyone yet. But how long will that last?

How many deaths will I responsible for?”

Her hands become fists, teeth digging into her lips hard enough to bruise.

“I... _I handed the Demon King himself our sacred stone!_ Never have I...Never have I ever felt so foolish and naive!! I was always complained about my lack of power, and yet when I finally have it…”

“Your Highness…”

“I don’t have what it takes to live up to it! I would have less guilt if it were only Renais’ army under my hand, but no, these are all...normal people! People with...dreams, and family, and, lovers…”

“Eirika!”

The use of her name without a title seems to have gotten her attention. She wasn’t yet crying, but he could see tears in a cold gloss across her eyes amidst her frenzied speech. Her breaths were coming out short and deep, nearing hyperventilation. Even in the first days of their campaign, never had she been this frantic, not that she had allowed anyone to see.

“Not a single person in this army has joined you without a choice, Your Highness. Never once have you denied anyone the chance to leave. They fight because they choose to fight, do they not?”

“But…”

“And if they die, it was their own choice.” Eirika’s widen. He realizes that was blunt, and how cruel this might sound, but it was one of the first things he had thought of on his journey to knighthood. Whether or not he was okay with the possibility of giving his life for his country. “They joined this journey fully aware of the risks they were taken.”

“But...That doesn’t make it right! If one of my choices were to lead my people to their deaths…”

“...Fine, my lady. Perhaps that is true...But how many more lives were saved because of your choices?”

She looks up to him, just as tears join her fears. Exhausted, hurt, and betrayed. Seth knew the feeling well by now, enough to see it painted plainly on her face.

“If not for our campaign, Princess Tana would have stayed a hostage. Sir Garcia and his son would not have lived. If not for your choice to journey to Rausten, Prince Innes and his companions would have died in Renvall.” Eirika turns to look at the floor, deep in thought. He doesn’t stop. “What of those two children from Lark? The monk and his friend in the woods? That family the dark mage kidnapped? The dancer’s brother?...How many villages have we saved?”

“You...You remember all those?”

“Lady Eirika…” He stands, to show how serious he was being. A part of him hates to be so brutish, but he will do as he must to see her smile. “Everything you have done thus far...Was for the sake of not just Renais’ people, but Magvel’s people. We all have regrets in this war...But you have only ever done what was right. You’ve only ever fought for the wellbeing of others.

These people...your army, your soldiers, you wonder why they’re still here? It’s because of your compassion, it’s because of your honesty. You do not do what a good leader would do, you do what a good person would do...I regret that I tried to hinder that in the beginning.”

“S-Seth…”

“The thought of you being on a battlefield...I never liked to imagine it. I liked it even less when it became reality. I wanted nothing more than to hold you close and run and run and run. I only thought about you, what was...what _I_ thought was best for you. But then you made me realize...That I had no right in commanding you. And there were many, many others that I hold dear to me, and wish to protect. Most of all, that you were so much stronger than any of us had thought.

Do you remember the masses cheering for you upon you and your brother’s return? They hadn’t even seen what we have seen you do, and they knew you were doing what was right. You mean more to this army than you realize. If you didn’t...They wouldn’t have stayed. They stay because they truly believe you will lead us to victory, Lady Eirika…”

There were boundaries a knight couldn’t cross, and he was hurdling over all of them. Somewhere as he spoke, he’d stopped caring about what was and wasn’t appropriate for a knight. Eirika, someone he served, someone he admired...

...Someone he **loved** …was hurting.

He felt pain as she did, and after all they’ve been through, he would do anything to make sure she never feels it again. Chivalry be damned.

“I am truly proud and honored to serve a liege as noble and brave as you... _Queen Eirika._ ”

She had sat stunned during his whole speech, and she lets out a final sob before she dashes from her seat, wrapping her arms around his torso. He stumbles back, hands frozen in mid-air.

...No, this was the one boundary he could never break. No matter how much he wished he could. Though he felt what he said no less, all the energy from it had immediately disappeared, reminding him that while neither of them liked it, her happiness always came first. He would be by her side, but never in matrimony.

“Everything I have done until this point...I did not only because it felt like the right thing, but because I...I wanted to do right by my father. Everything I do, I think, would he be proud? Would my people be proud?...Would Ephraim be proud? I have never wanted so desperately to succeed in my life.”

“I have felt much the same, Your Highness. Everything I do, I have sworn to do because it aids you in your every wish. How grateful I am you use this power for a good cause...I...I think King Fado would be proud.”

“Thank you, Seth. Thank you. Thank you so, so much…”

Her arms around him tighten, she’s even making sure it’s high enough above his wound to not agitate it...Even though he was a mere servant, she was always putting the thoughts of others before her own.

She was expecting something back, he realizes. His hands hesitate at her sides, his mind a battle over his heart and his vows. But eventually, his arms settler around her, pleased at the warmth she radiates. The sun was rising above the mountains of Rausten, rays nothing against her light. The same light that was running the darkness out of Magvel, out of him, out of everyone.

Embraced by the scent of her hair and the reality that she was alive, that they were both alive, he decides he can still live happily, as long he rides by her side.

**Author's Note:**

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